The Ring
by MystyKitty
Summary: I sat across the table from her, her pendant on my neck, my ring on her finger, and wondered how to keep her from walking away a second time.


The Ring

By Mystykitty

**London, January 5, 2000**

Throughout my fairly short life I have always been considered suave, although, I have also been called a slimy git.  But then not everyone can be a fan.  The truth of the matter is that the majority of my smoothness is directed towards my own sex.  

Women baffle me. 

I always and I mean always manage to mess up any type of conversation that doesn't involve schoolwork or insults.  Simply put, I have never been good at talking to girls.  It isn't that they scare me, but they make me nervous.  I can't read them.  I can look into a man's eyes and I can almost see exactly what they are thinking, see what they feel about me.  It's a wonderful talent.  It has helped me to survive.  

Before and during the war I was able to look into my friends and enemies eyes and see the truth.  See the truth behind the lies and see not what they were saying, but what they meant.  It was this talent that allowed me to look into my father's eyes and spit in his face, allowed me to see the truth in my headmaster's eyes, and finally accept the truth I think that I have always known deep down inside.  

It was that talent that allowed me to look into Potter's eyes and see all that he cared about was destroying Voldemort.

Protecting those he claimed as his, Weasly, Granger, Dumbledore and even as much as it scared him, Me.  So it was this talent of mine that made me switch sides in the war.  It made me, not just become a spy, but an integral part of the strategy committee of the Order of the Phoenix.  It is the one thing that I claim helped me to survive to have a well deserved vacation in Russia.  

Yet it was Russia that led me to my current problem.

The embarrassing problem about girls that I have been forced to admit.  The simple fact that I am horrible at speaking to girls, or women I suppose.  So as I sit across from her, my ring on her slender finger, her pendant warm against my chest, my deficiencies at reading girls are magnified.  What is running through her mind, what do I do?  What should I say?  How do I prevent her from walking out of my life for a second time?

~*~

**Moscow, December 31, 1999**

I stood in a corner.  The silk mask was soft on my skin.  I am well acquainted with silk, all Malfoys are; however, it is another feeling having it caress you face with every breath that passed from my lips.  I was at a ball, a masquerade for the new years celebration.  My Mother, the reason I was on this trip, had even approved of the black tuxedo that I had chosen, unlike anything else I had worn during the war.  My Mother disapproves of anything made of cotton or linen.  Despite her despair at my wardrobe, she was distraught at the risk I had placed my self under.  After the final battle I was a wreck, the final hex from my own father before an Order member stunned him almost finished me off right there on the field, instead a quick and temporary healing spell by Granger, allowed me to live long enough for the survivors to take me to the makeshift hospital.    

When Mother found out I was alive, she sat by my bedside for two weeks as the med wizards tried to combat the damage of Father and many other's curses.  So when I woke up with a faint ache in my hip and a warm hand clutched protectively in her own, I knew that I owed her whatever she wanted. 

 She wanted a vacation.  

She wanted a guided tour of Russia, given to the filthy rich, culminating in a ball on new years, in what she believed to be that most fascinating country in the world.

How could I refuse?

So that is how I ended up in a ballroom in the middle of Moscow, silk mask covering my face.  All around me were six tour groups of the wealthy and privileged people that decided they wanted to celebrate the holidays and New Years abroad with utter strangers of an extravagant tour of a country less fortunate than their own.

I watched elegant women waltz past my corner, hair perfectly coiffed, backs ramrod straight.  Their privileged upbringing present in every step they took, every icy laugh that dropped down into the sweet strains of one of Berlioz's many waltzes.  These women were my future.  Those born to privilege, marry privilege.  While muggles may have progressed beyond these archaic rules, the wizard world was still hidebound, only a few pureblood wizards had ever broken the pattern and married for love instead of status.  Watching the graceful moves of the women made me aware of the simple fact that I wouldn't be the one to show my generation how to break the mould.  Across the room I heard my mother's laugh and watched as she harmlessly flirted with a portly man obviously, by his accent, from America.  I smiled; at least she was having fun.  It was almost ten, only two more hours until a new year came, only two more hours until I entered a world where I didn't have a war to fight, where I could be a twenty one-year-old man.  Two hours until I entered a year where I had a future.  

I stepped forward, and presented myself to a woman standing in a corner, it was time to simply enjoy being a handsome man.  We danced together, twirled around the floor, my hands holding her waist tightly, my finger nearly touching.  She was graceful and elegant but that was it.  Her voice was coarse, her conversation was mind numbing.

The state of Russia.

How dreadful it was that the lower classes could afford such an honorable trip.

She was hideous, a blatant display of new money, the daughter of a lottery winner, or an American. 

For me the difference between money was obvious, my family was older than the oldest Muggle aristocracy.  My family began with Avalon and Moragaine.  At the height of the wizard world we would have been revered, we had revered Arthur Pendragon and his faithful Lancelot du Lac.  In those days there was no shame in being a muggle, in being a pureblood.  Now all around me I saw the decline of a once great people, in the age of Merlin, wizard and muggle mingled, there was no separation, now the difference was obvious.  Both sides were on a decline and there was nothing to stop it.

The woman was still talking, it seemed as though winding up a long diatribe on the gall of the lower classes, filling exclusive schools and screwing up the economy, how they weren't even worth the effort expended on educating them.  It was amusing to hear the beliefs of my father and Voldemort being parroted back by one of their so-called filth.  All in all I think that I made the correct choice, at least I was alive, I had dealt a serious blow to the old regime by trading sides, but the simple fact if the matter is that purebloods were quickly devolving from the inbreeding.  I may not be one to go out and marry for love…showing them all the way and all of that, but I do know that I should.  I just won't.   I don't think that I am designed for love.  When the dance ended I quickly dropped her hand and bowed.  The quicker I removed myself from her noxious presence the better.

From the corner of my eye I saw a balcony and an escape.  Weaving my way through the crowds of tipsy women and drunk men I made it, after only having my ass pinched a few times, by both men and women.

I stepped out onto the balcony and felt the blast of near arctic air hit my face.  I don't hate the cold, but my tuxedo was no match for the icy Russian winter.  I inhaled tried to clear the bitterness from my system; I was here for my mother.  I was here to have fun, and have fun is what I was going to do.

A soft noise in the corner made me more aware of my surroundings.  If Snape had ever caught me so unaware, he probably would have strung me up by my balls and left me to hang.  Standing there staring up at the stars was a beautiful woman.  Her hair flowed down her back in a glossy wave, the candlelight of the ballroom brought out warm highlights in the dark hair.  Her dress was a rich burgundy, tight and flattering with a full skirt, emphasizing her tiny waist and well proportioned torso.  I felt a tightening in the pit of my stomach, I hadn't wanted a woman since before the war began, my experience with Pansy had all but turned me to the celibacy better suited to a monk than a hormonal teenage boy.  I cleared my throat, I made a point never to startle any one, Granger had a vicious case of battle nerves and tended to curse first and ask questions after, I dread jelly-legs after the third time I startled her in the Order's headquarters.  The girl turned, a silk mask beaded in tiny iridescent sparkles covered her face, revealing only dark expressive eyes and full lips matching the burgundy of the dress.  I wanted to press my lips to hers, see what her lips would look like without the lipstick, after they were bruised and flushed from my kisses.  My eyes wandered down from her face to the low v cut of her sleeveless dress.  The sights the dress revealed made it difficult to bring my eyes back up to her face.  I wondered how she could possibly stand out for any length in the cold with so little cloths on.  Trying to be polite I bowed and said, 

"Hello."  My Russian was so poor I didn't want to risk offending the girl's possible home tongue.

"Hallo.  Deutscher ist das nähste, das ich zum Russen kommen kann."  My Russian is poor but I know that that wasn't Russian.

"Sorry Miss, I only speak english."

"Englisch?"  The girl paused and a smile broke out across her lips, revealing a dazzling white smile.  "Oh thank heaven, my German really isn't that good, but my Russian is even worse.  That's what I said to you by the way, German is the closest I can come to Russian."  The more excited she got the faster she talked.  Her familiar English accent made me long for London, and the comforts of my flat.  

"Are you enjoying your evening?"  I was actually curious; she was so different than the other woman at the ball, elegant and classy without the veneer of arrogance and vapidity that encased the other woman of the high class.

She gave a small huffy laugh.  "Honestly?"  I nod.  "No, the women are all arrogant and ignorant, and the men are lechers."  She ran her hands up and down her arms.  "I was out here contemplating how this was going to be one of my loneliest New Years ever.  My parents and friends gave me this trip as a Christmas present, and insisted that I go alone."  Her lips twisted in a mockery of her previous happy grin.  "Maybe I'll met someone, get over the guy that broke my heart."  She looked beyond my shoulder dealing with the demons of her past.  She sighed and seemed to bring herself from the past.  "I am so sorry, here you are being polite, and I tell you my life story.  Please forgive me.  I am just overwhelmed by the coldness of my fellow travelers and you're a friendly face and…"her soft voice seemed to trail off into nothingness.  I found myself smiling at her faux pas.

"Don't worry," I keep my voice modulated, I didn't want for my interest in her to show.  "My mother brought me on this trip, and I honestly have missed speaking with people my own age, it isn't something I am very practiced at."  Her soft smile encourages me.  "I came out here to escape ignorant ideas of ignorant people that have never felt suffering, it sickens me."  A shade of sadness pasted across her dark eyes, dimming the luminescence that made them beautiful.  I image it probably matched the shadow that crossed my own eyes as I thought about all that died in the war, even as the images of those my own age that died passed across my eyes.

Finch-Fetchley

Susan Bones

And nearly all the Slytherins except Blaise Zabini   

I inhaled trying to remember they gave their lives for a better world, and caught her light floral perfume in the icy air.  A sweet and crisp smell that seemed suited her excitement and vest for life, but also her obvious intelligence.   

"As the only two sane and socially conscious people in the entire ballroom, I command that you ask me to dance with you for the rest of the evening."  She grinned up at me, before whispering, hoping I wouldn't hear, "I don't want to be alone at midnight."

I stepped closer and could feel the tension in the girl's body.  I held out my right hand palm up.  "My lady, may I have this and all other dances left on your card?"  She grinned at my chivalry and curtsied.

"My lord." She placed her tiny hand in mine and I tried to ignore the electric charge that contact with her elicited.  Together we walked back to the ballroom and began the dance, ignoring the sniffs of the other people around us, and simply twirled.  We spoke of everything from Russia's history of architecture to the progressively increasing rate of using artificial chemicals in foods and food preparation.  With every word that we exchanged I fell deeper and deeper in lust with her.  The way her body felt against mine, the ready supply of opinions and the ease at which she wielded all of them.  In no time at all, the conductor stopped the string quartet, and waiters passed out flutes of champagne to the guests.  A new year was approaching.

We all stood facing the window, waiting for the fire works that would signify the presence of a new year.  She stood in front of me, her back warm on my chest, my head resting on the top of hers.  The people around us began to count down and I leaned forward and whispered in her ear,

"A New Year, a new life."  She spun and faced me, our glasses clinking together only to have the champagne forgotten as our lips met, just as fire lit the sky at the dawn of the new millennium.  

The kisses between the drunken partygoers continued on long after this girl and I finished.  The music had yet to begin again and I was beginning to get nervous, I often get flustered on a one on one scale, and this was defiantly that.  She was the second girl I ever kissed and I think she may have kissed me.  I looked down into her eyes and saw something I never thought to see.

Longing.

She reached out her little hand and entwined her fingers in mine, before walking towards the exit of the ballroom.  I didn't say a word, I followed, not really sure what was going on.

We walked through the lobby, out masks still on, ignoring the laughter of the hotel workers, ignoring the stares of other guests.  All I could feel was heat spreading from her hand in mine up my arm, and down through my whole body, I was worried it would overwhelm me.  All I wanted to do was press her body against a corner and kiss her, taste her skin, see if the skin on her collarbone was as soft on my lips as it appeared to be.  I want to rub my tounge over her skin and banish any memories I've ever had of Pansy.  I wanted to tear off her dress and discover the body beneath the dress just as I had discovered the person beneath the mask.  She lead me to the elevator and pressed up, up into the hotel where all the guests atteneding the ball were staying.

Somewhere around the fifth floor she took her hand from mine and pressed it to my silk covered cheek.

"No questions and no regrets."

All I could do was press my face into her hand.

She leaned forward and captured my lips with hers.  I could feel her tounge gently run across my lips.  Instinctivly I opened my mouth and kissed her deeply, tried to let her know how much I wanted this.  She stepped back, resting her back against the elevator wall, pulling me with her, never stopping the kiss, never letting my lips stray from hers.  The elevetor stopped at the eigth floor, and she pulled her head back and smiled at me.  The mask that covered her face gave the appearence of a mischevious faery queen.

I looked around as we walked down the hall, this was very different from the hall that I was staying in with my mother.  This mysterious woman was part of a different tour.  Coming up to room 867 we stopped and she drew the key from somewhere in her form-fitting dress.  She looked at me, a strange expression in her eyes.

"Are you sure?"  I smile at her tentiveness after her earlier bold behevior.  I walked up to her and encircled my hand around the back of her neck, bringing her face close to mine our forheads touching, my lips brushing against hers with every word.

"Isn't that supposed to be my line?"

She laughed, a short burst that revealed the tension she held in her while still managing to appear calm, collected, and in control.  The display of nerves made me want her even more.  Taking the key from her hand I reach around and unlocked her door myself and led her into the room.  Not even waiting to talk she pulls me from the entryway of the suite into the bedroom and presses her lips to mine.

Quickly I felt like the heat she started was going to overwhelm me, I am in control, you can't be a spy and a fighter without having balls of steel, but having a beautiful woman in my arms, having her tiny hands running up and down my back, having her tounge stroking the roof of my mouth, well it was intense.  It was wonderful.

I felt my lips brush against the silk of her mask and wanted it gone.  Stroking my hand up her back, delighting in the smooth skin, I made my way to the nape of her neck and the up the the tiny string that held her mask to her face.

"No."  Her lips seperated from mine and she pulled back.  "I said no questions.  You are perfect, this evening has been perfect, and I don't want appearances to ruin it, I like your face as a blank slate, and I don't think my heart handle having to hold another face in my heart that I will never get to touch."  I wince at the sadness in her voice.

"Alright my lady, the masks stay on, though my heart will greive at never having seen your face."  She smiled, and I saw a line of tears wet the raw silk on her face.  "No tears tonight."  I leaned forward and kissed each cheek, each eyelid.  "No tears."  She smiled up at me and pushed my jacket to the floor.  Walking to the door she closed it and turned off the bright overhead light, leaving the room lit with the lights of a still celebrating Russia, and the gentle glow of candles in the bathroom.

Standing in front of me she reached behind her and began to unzip the dress that had facinated me and teased me for the night.  In a few quick steps I was by her side, together every piece of clothing that seperated us was gone, and I was undone.

The first touch of her hand, the feeling of her lips warm against my chest, her gentle hand on me lit a fire so bright, so high I saw stars.  The sight of her glowing in the dim light, mask gleaming irridescently, my own faery princess,  was my last coherant memory of the rest of the night.

I know that there was warmth.

Touch

The feeling of her tounge on me, her mouth around me.

The sweet taste of her.

The sight of her arching body.

Her cries to heaven.

My own cries for her to never stop.

The gentle weight of her body on mine.

The constant stream of words in my ear I can't even rember.

The tightening of her around me pushing me over the edge of a tall cliff, allowing me to fly on a wave so intense I could barly move for all of the flying I was doing.

Flying above and beyond my problems with this mysterious women whose name I never even found out.

I don't remeber anything after.  I simply remember the warmth at my side that I have lacked my whole life as we fell asleep together, my arms around her, hers around me.

I awoke to cold.  The warm spot I grew to like was gone, the hollowed spot in the bed next to me empty.  I sat up, the sheet falling from my bare chest and I looked around in panic, the events of the previous evening came back to me.  The time I would get her name, and I wouldn't let her keep the mask on.  Maybe I could love after all.  A crash from the next room made me jump up, pulling my boxers off of the lampshade and one before quickly and cautiously running into the lounge.

"Shite."  The profanity was shouted from my faery's mouth as she struggled to maneuver her bag out into the hallway.  I leaned against a wall calmly even as my heart started to refreeze.  She was dressed in muggle jeans and a mans button down dress shirt.

My dress shirt.

"Are you leaving?"  I looked at my pocket watch.  It read **Way to f*ing early to be awake.**  In muggle time it was somewhere around four am.  "Were you even going to say goodbye?"  The mask on her face now made her look odd, while last night it had been infinitly sexy, now it infuriated me.

Her body stiffened.  She hadn't planned on me waking up.  She turned and walked over to me, face sad under the mask.  She placed a hand on my cheek and ran her fingers down the mask that I still wore.  "No. I wasn't going to wake you up."  She reached around her neck and fumbled with the clasp of the golden necklace that I had admired, resting so casually between her perfect breasts the other night.  Finally she simply pulled it over her head and dropped it around my own, the metal was still warm from her skin and it warmed my cold bare chest.  "You gave me a wonderful night My Lord, I don't think you understand how much you helped me.  I had thought that I was meant for one person.  One person that loved someone else.  Now I see that I was wrong.  You made me realize that I deserve to be loved as well and that I can be.  I will never be able to forget you.  I will never want to.  You have become the basis on which I base my perfect match on."  She reached up and pushed aside my mask a little bit, she brushed her lips against my cheek and whispered, "Thank you."  She turned to leave.  To walk out of my life forever.

"I feel the same way you know."   My voice seemed to stop her.  "You have reestablished my waning faith in humanity, and I thank you for that.  I know you don't want to be infulanced by apperance but know that I think your beautiful, inside and out."  I looked down at my hand and pulled off the ring I had been wearing for the last six years.  The heavy silver ring with celtic knotwork and a serpent gliding through them, with a perfect emerald set in the center of it.  The ring my grandmother, the only member of my father's family that I liked, gave me.  "I know that you say you won't forget me, but I can't believe you."  I pulled off the ring without a second thought and walked towards her.  Grabbing her left hand I slid the ring on her thumb, the only finger big enough to support the weight of the ring.  "Now I know that you won't forget me,"  I placed my hand over the pendant, "just as I know I won't forget you."

"Thank you."  She whispered, her voice choked with tears.  She walked towards the door, back stiff, as if resolved not to turn around and run back to my side.  At the doorway she paused and reached up to the ties that held the mask on.  Reaching up she untied them and gently tossed the mask at me, allowing me a glimpse of perfect smooth skin and wide eyes.  "Farwell meine Liebe, halte ich immer einen Platz für Sie in meinem Herzen."  

Then she left.  And I stood there in her room, in my boxers, her silken mask in my hand and her pendant around my neck, with no idea about what she said before she left.

~*~

**Hogsmede, January 4, 2000**

I was tired.  My trip with my mother had ended on the third, and I had agreed to meet with everyone on the fourth to discuss our trips.  All I could think of however was her, and how I wanted to see her again, I am sure that Mother will never want to travel with me ever again.  Instead of sitting in my library stultifying in my own self pity I was walking into the Three Broomsticks to search for Granger, Potter and Weasly, Weasly, Zabini, and surprisingly enough my cousin Tonks.  It wasn't hard to find them, all sitting around and chatting.  I smile faintly; they used to be enough to keep me sane, now all I think about is her.

Ron spotted me, wildly gesturing me over before getting calmed down by the blonde sitting next to him.

Luna Lovegood, we were never close, but she could read people far better than I could.  She could read them so well in fact it makes me nervous.

I walk over and sit at the seat they saved for me and wait.  I look around at my friends and see how well rested they are.  Harry and Ginny were blooming, a permanent pink tint to her cheeks and a goofy smile on his oh-so-famous face.  They had obviously expressed undying love during our months away from each other.  Ron and Luna seemed blissful, I felt twinges of envy at them, how dare they be so happy while I am alone.  Blaise sat next to Tonks, with his arm around her.  It was a shock to find out that my best friend fell in love with my cousin, my favorite older cousin, but after I broke his nose and she hexed me I learned to accept it.  Granger was alone, a far off look in her dark eyes, she seemed to be disgusted by the couples around us just as I was.

"So Malfoy," Potter's voice broke through my study, "Where did you head for the holiday's?  We lost track of you after you left the hospital with your mum.  I am surprised that you're here, the look she gave me when you left the hospital was scary…I don't think she likes me."  I laugh, Mother really didn't like him, she felt it was his fault I was injured in the battle.

"Well Potter she doesn't like you.  But I'm a big boy and I couldn't resist your oh so stimulating company."  I smirk.  "But to answer your question I was in Russia, my mother wanted to do a tour."  Granger's head snapped up quickly from her own little world, managing to knock over the full mug of mulled mead in front of her.

"You were where?"  Her voice was strangled.

Ron laughed.  "Seems like Malfoy's mum had the same plan for them as we had for you."  He laughed his usual braying laugh while everyone else looked on with confusion at the paleness in out cheeks.  Granger pulled her napkin off her lap and began to mop up the spilled liquid.  I caught a glimpse of silver on her finger.  I lean forward and catch her hand across the table.  On her thumb is my ring.  The ring I gave to her.

"Where did you get this Granger?"  My voice was calm maybe even quiet.

"As if she will tell you," Harry's voice breaks through our silent exchange.  "She won't even tell the people that gave her the trip what had her crying for three days."  He was pissed that the girl he held as his sister refused to share why she was upset.  I wonder what he will do when he find out that I slept with her, fell in love with her.

Hermione had finished mopping up her spill and looked down at the ring on her finger.  A wistful smile appeared on her face.  "A friend gave it to me.  Made me realize something about myself."  She looked down, but not before I saw the tears in her eyes.

"That's it Herms," Harry's voice cut through, "You gotta tell us what's going on."

I ignored his voice and leaned forward, the pendant I never took off falling out from the simple linen shirt I was wearing.  I could feel her eyes on it.

"That's very pretty Draco."  Her voice was subdued.

"A friend gave it to me.  She also made me realize something about myself.  I guess Russia is a good place for realizations.  By the way."  I look her in the eye, tried to force the truth from eyes I couldn't read.  "Do you speak German?"

She looked down and covered the ring with her index finger.

"Nein."

Everyone around me vanishes and only the girl across the table from me existed.

"We have to talk about this now you know."  I felt a sick plunging sense of dread combined with an ecstatic dizziness, unlike anything I had ever felt before.  "I can't get my friend out of my head, you see she stands there in a beaded mask and breaks my heart over and over again.  We have to talk."

She nods.  "I know.  Not here, tomorrow at the park, I'll owl you details tonight."  She stands and looks at all the baffled people around us.  "Goodbye, I'll see you all later, I have to go now."  She looked into my eyes.  "And I feel the same way," with that she apperated away to some unknown refuge. 

"What the bloody hell was that?"  Ron's voice explodes through the table.

"Ron.  Shut it."  Luna's voice cuts through his anger.  "Draco, if you want to avoid the inevitable inquisition that will follow your exchange, its time to split."  I nod and stand up, stepping away from the table.

The last thing I hear as I apperate away from the table is Harry's angry, "What the bloody hell is going on?"

~*~

**London, January 5, 2000**

Now I am here sitting across from her in a little Muggle coffee shops watching the rain cascade down the window, watching the unreadable expressions flitting across her beautiful face.  I waited at the park like she instructed until she came, and just like that night took my hand and led me to a little shop without a word.  Now I wait.  What do I say to make her fall as deeply in love with me as I am with her.

I just don't know.

"I don't know what to say to you, you understand."  Her voice cut through me, her pendant the only thing keeping me warm, except for the fact she still wore my ring.  "I showed you a side of myself that only one other person has ever seen.  I never expected that I would ever see you again.  I wore your shirt for three days until it didn't even smell like you anymore."  She looked down at the table and I saw a single teardrop hit the Formica tabletop.  "The worst part of it is that I wanted it to be you the whole time.  I wanted it to be you and you thought I was some exotic Lady.  But I'm not.  I'm the girl that you made cry for six years, the women that you slogged through mud with, killed people with, almost got killed with.  I'm me.  And you're you.  And when I left my hotel room that morning I meant all that I said, but I was talking about you, to you.  And I wanted it to be you the whole time."  

She stopped at that.  And I knew.

I knew that she loved me as much as I loved her.

I took her hand in mine and placed it over my heart.

"Ever since I saw you that night on the balcony my heart has beat with you, for you.  The fact I was never going to see my masked faery again hurt me so deeply I though I wouldn't recover.  But I did, the moment I walked into the Three Broomsticks and saw my ring on your finger I was healed.  Now that I know who you are, I know that I wouldn't have it any other way.  I love you."

She fell into my arms, and for once I didn't have to try to read her at all, I knew.

I knew she was feeling the same thing that I was.

Love 

_A/N:_

_I don't Harry Potter; I was inspired for this story by the story Spanish Eyes and 'Farwell meine Liebe, halte ich immer einen Platz für Sie in meinem Herzen.'  Means Farewell my love, I'll always hold a place for you in my heart in German which I got from Babel Fish translation, so if its really wrong let me know._

_This is a one shot fic and I really can't see myself doing any type of sequel or further chapters, but I do really need feedback.  Please if you read this give me your full and honest opinion about it.  Especially the love scene, I have never written one before and I need honest and comprehensive feedback before I contemplate putting it in my other story, The Power of Dance (which everyone should read)._

_Thank you for reading this, and for those that review, that you for reviewing._

_Mystykitty_


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